


Don’t You Think?

by minnesotamemelord



Category: Victoria (TV)
Genre: Alfred Paget - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst and Fluff, Artist AU, Asexual, Beards (Relationships), Bisexual, Bottom Alfred, Canon Gay Relationship, Canon LGBTQ Character, Canon LGBTQ Male Character, Canon-Typical Violence, Drumfred, Edward Drummond - Freeform, F/M, Fluff, Gay, Halloween AU, Halloween Costumes, High School AU, Homoromantic, Jock AU, LGBTQ, Loner AU, M/M, New Kid AU, Non-Canonical Violence, Pansexual, Prep AU, Science Boyfriends, Science Fair, Sherlock AU, Top Edward, Victoria High School AU, lab partners au, nerd au, victoria au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2019-04-19 13:59:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 17,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14238801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minnesotamemelord/pseuds/minnesotamemelord
Summary: Victoria High School AUEdward Drummond: nerd, overachiever, loner™️Alfred Paget: jock, prep, sweetheartNeither one ever thought they’d be drawn together by these  circumstances. And yet, sometimes, the things we think are the most unfair often turn out to be exactly what we need.





	1. Edward

Victoria High School AU

Edward:

There are two kinds of people at Buckingham High: those who give a damn, and those who don’t. I’m the kind who does. My lab partner, Alfred Paget, does not. Every day, I do worksheet after worksheet. And Paget? He...doodles. They’re excellent drawings. Incredible, really. And he talks. I mean, his voice isn’t the most grating, but a little help would be nice, right?

So I transferred here in early September, and it’s been a month, and I still have no friends. But it’s no big deal. I’m only here for two years. I’ll just suffer and then go to college. Whatevs. 

So anyways, one Thursday I was on my way to Honors Chem, with Alfred. As I got to the classroom, he was already there, his notebook open so he could draw. He was staring intently at the page, and I noticed a little crease between his eyes that didn’t quite fade when he relaxed. Unlike the rest of the hockey team, he hadn’t quite given in to the hockey haircut, though his hair was a bit shaggy around his ears, which poked out just a bit. I leaned over to try and sneak a look at his sketch, but the bell rang and he slammed his book shut to put it in his backpack. “Hey, Drummond. How was your weekend?” I rolled my eyes. How could any person be this friendly first thing in the morning? “Yeah right. Like you care.”

“Well, I’m offended that you think I don’t!” Alfred slapped a hand over his heart, pretending to be shocked.  
“Whatever, Paget.” He returned to his doodles, and I turned my attention to the clock to watch the minutes tick down, one by one by one.


	2. Alfred

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred’s POV

Alfred: 

“Honestly, Mina, I’m not sure what’s going on. He just hates me. God knows why.” I shook my head and tossed my hands in the air.  
“Well, first of all, you’re going to need to calm down.” Wilhelmina, one of my best friends since childhood, gently lowered my arms to the lunch table in the courtyard, just below the balcony, my favorite spot. “And secondly, Al, he doesn’t hate you. Nobody hates you. You’re...too nice.”  
“What, now I’m too nice?”  
“No, no that’s not what I mean. You’re just...overbearing sometimes.”  
“Well, shit.”

“Hello, all!” Our student body president Victoria stood atop a table, somehow keeping her balance in six inch heels. “I’m throwing a little Halloween masquerade bash, and all of you are invited! Costumes are mandatory, thank you very much, and I’ll see you on Friday!” Her boyfriend, Albert, another friend of mine, helped her down. “Mina, do I have to go to that?” I groaned. “Yeah, Alfredo Sauce. You do. You’re the only cool person I know. And I’m gonna help you with your costume. After school, tomorrow, you and I are hopping over to a party store, and we’re going to get you the most rockin’ costume you’ve ever had!” “Yeah, uh, no. I’ll just find something at home. Whatever. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I slid my tray off of the table and gave her a small wave.

The next day, as first hour began, I turned to Edward. “You going to Vic’s Halloween party?”  
“Probably not.” His eyes remained buried in his book.  
“You should! It’ll be a fun time. Everyone will be there. And I’ll be there!” I smiled that...dumbass smile I always do when I’m excited. “Come on, Eddy, don’t be such a loser.” “I’m not a loser.” He snapped. “I like my life the way it is. So leave. Me. The. Hell. Alone.” 

I wanted to reach out, apologize, but he turns away to see the board, and the moment’s gone.


	3. Halloween

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edward’s POV & Alfred’s POV

 

Edward:  
  
A couple of weeks after the “incident”, I was at home, about 4:00 on Halloween night, when my mom called up to my room. “Edward, are you going to that Halloween party at the Quentin’s tonight?”  
Crap.  I hadn’t told her about the party. “Who told you about that?”  
“Some girl just called the house and asked if you were coming.” As I wandered into the kitchen, she glanced at me, concerned. “I think it would be good for you to go, have fun.”  
“Mom, I don’t even have a costume.”  
“Sure you do! You can find something in that big ol’ closet of yours! ”  
“Also, I just don’t want to.”  
“Come on, Ed. I’m worried about you. You haven’t made any friends. ”  
“So? I’m only here for 2 years. I can get through 2 years with no friends. ”  
“I’ve been in high school, and I’m telling you, you can’t. So either you go to that party, or I don’t get you that telescope for Christmas. ”  
“Most parents would discourage their kids from going to parties.”  
“Most kids don’t read economics textbooks for fun.”  
“Fine, ma. Whatever will make you happy. ”  
  
Alfred:  
  
I arrived at Vic’s house about 8, and the place was already packed. My costume was, of course, my literary idol, John Watson. I think people underestimate him just because he’s Sherlock’s sidekick, but he’s much more of a badass than he appears.  Albert grabbed my jacket at the door, and I noticed he was dressed like George Washington. I could still tell it was him, though, by the wispy brown mustache that emerged from under it. “I assume Vic’s your Martha?”  
  
“Observant, Paget.” Albert scoffed. “And who are you supposed to be?”  
  
“I’m John Watson!”  
  
“Could have fooled me. You just look like a nerd. ”  
  
“Fuck you, Al.”  
  
“Right back atcha, Al.”  
  
I adjusted my own mask, made of pages I’d recovered from a beat-up old copy of A Study In Scarlet, and turned my attention to the snack table. However, as I made my way towards the stack of cream puffs, Albert tapped me on the shoulder. “Look, Paget. It’s Sherlock. ” It was true.  A stranger in a plaid cape and matching hat had appeared in the doorway. It seemed he had the same idea I had for a mask, but I couldn’t see just what story he had. A pipe hung loosely from between his soft pink lips, and it was as if Cinderella had arrived at the ball. Nobody recognized him, but everyone was enthralled with the man in the mask.  
  
“Who is that?”  
  
“You tell me. You’re wearing the matching costumes. ”  
  
“Not on purpose, Albert.”  
  
"Whatever."  
As Sherlock descended the stairs, people turned back to their conversation. And yet, I couldn't. But Albert grabbed my arm, and I was torn away. While Albert poured me a drink and chatted with his older brother, Ernest, I spotted Sherlock over by the cream puffs I had eyed earlier. "Sherlock."  
"No shit."  
"Ha. So, Mr. Holmes, what gave you the idea to wear that costume? "  
"I suppose I don't know. I'm not a very big fiction fan, but I do love a mystery. "  
The voice was vaguely recognizable, but the fake English accent hid the voice, and the mask hid his face.  
"It appears we accidentally matched."  
"It appears we did." Sherlock took a sip of his drink. "Those cream puffs are tempting, no?"  
"Well, I'm prepared to be led into temptation. What about you? " I grabbed a cream puff off the pyramid and took a bite of the decadent pastry.  
"I'll pass, I think." Sherlock said, his eyes sparkling, one green, one brown.  
"In that case, I hope to see you on the dance floor." I winked with a grin and rejoined Albert and Ernest, who barely realized I was missing.  
  
Edward:  
  
I watched the man dressed as Watson saunter away, grateful that my mask covered my cheeks so he couldn't see the warm blush that spread across them. Nobody'd ever asked me to dance before. I tried to think about who he could conceivably be, but nobody came to mind. I grabbed a Butterfinger from the candy bowl, my favorite. I watched people dancing as I ate. They looked so... happy. So carefree. I couldn't recall a time I'd felt like that. That I hadn't felt buried under the weight of all my secrets. And yet, that night, I had the option to. Nobody knew who I was. I could be whoever I wanted to be. And right now, I wanted to dance.  
  
  
  
Alfred:  
  
I excused myself from Albert and Ernest. I'd promised Sherlock I'd meet him on the dance floor, and also? My friends are weird? And total fuckboys? So yeah. I slid out between the dancers.  I saw Queen Victoria grinding on Superman, Wednesday Addams twerking, and Elvis doing shots with Flo from Progressive, but no Sherlock. Song after song passed, and I gave up. It wasn't meant to be. As I backed out of the veritable mosh pit that had formed, I slammed into somebody. "Watch where you're going, ass- oh. Sorry. " I swiveled around to see Sherlock. Hmm. Perhaps I had been wrong. "Sherlock. I'm glad to see you. "  
  
"You don't even know who I am," Sherlock said with a chuckle. He had an easy laugh, smooth and warm.  
  
"Do I need to?" I raised an inquisitive eyebrow.  
  
"No." He offered me a glass.  
  
"Thank you." I knocked back a sip. It was sweet, fruity, and had way too much alcohol. Generally kinda gross. Nevertheless, I knocked it back in two swallows. I needed a bit of courage.  
  
"Let's dance." He practically had to shout for me to hear him, but I tossed my cup onto a nearby table and allowed him to usher me out onto the floor. We were in the eye of the hurricane, the deepest depths of the last layer of hell.  
  
The middle of the mosh pit.  
  
We were being jostled about like ragdolls in a washing machine, but every time I glanced at him, his eyes were alight with the freedom of someone cutting loose for the first time, which that gave me a renewed enthusiasm. He grabbed my shoulder and leaned in to yell. "Thank you, Watson!"  
  
"What for, Sherlock?"  
  
He shrugged. "I don't know!"  
  
And at that moment, time seemed to freeze. I didn't feel so claustrophobic, and his eyes were no longer just sparkling or alight. They were fucking radiant.  And all of a sudden, he began to lean down, his face shining slightly with sweat, filled with a burned-out adrenaline. And despite everything about me saying no, I let my lips reach up to graze his neck, his cheekbones, his collarbone. Never quite touching, but so close I could hardly stand it. In fact, I didn't think I could.  
  
I backed away, pushing him off.  I ran past Albert, past Ernest, past Victoria, who I addressed with a mumbled "Thanks for having me" before speeding out onto the already icy New England street. I managed to get to a bush (or maybe it was a tree), and retched up everything I'd eaten that day, including that gross drink Sherlock had given me. When I was done, and there was nothing else to be recovered, I lay in the snowy grass for a while.Maybe minutes, maybe hours. All Iknew is that when I got home, it was still dark. And I couldn't stop thinking about Sherlock Holmes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah so the first couple of chapters were really short but hopefully the rest will be about this long


	4. Lab Rats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred's POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao I lied this is a short one

Alfred:

After the Halloween party, I told my parents I was sick. They let me stay home for a couple of days, but eventually, I had to go back to school. So naturally, walking into first period and seeing Edward already there really was the shit cherry on the shit sundae. "Edward, I'm...I'm sorry for calling you a loser. Last week."

"Yeah, it's cool." He continued to scribble in his notebook, which told me to let it go. The bell rang, and Dr. Peel, the teacher that Edward TAs for, began to scratch out letters on the board. Most teachers had switched to a fully electronic system, but Peele still insisted on a chalkboard. God knows why.

3RD QUARTER SCIENCE FAIR

Well, fuck.

"Alrighty, kiddos! It's time for the science fair! You know how it works. You pick an experiment. You do said experiment. You present your findings. Blah, blah, blah."

"Can we pick our partners?" Some random kid asked.

"Oh, great question. But no."

Groans ensued.

"So who are we working with?"

"Your lab partners. Duh."

Well, _fuck._

"So, grab a rubric, and go forth, and, uh, discuss."

Edward slid the rubric across the table to me. "Come on, Paget. Let's just get through this."

"Wow, don't sound so enthusiastic."

"Seriously, man, I had a rough weekend, so if you could just lay off-"

"You know what? So did I. But I still came in here and apologized. So shut. The fuck. Up."

"Whoo! Paget's getting pissed."

"Yeah, I am. So in your words, let's just get through this." I slammed my head down on the desk.

”Hey.” Edward spoke softly this time. “What’s going on?”

”You wouldn’t care.”

”Considering that I’ll be the one dealing with you for the next three months, I really do. Because I’ve been working by myself for the past 2 months, and I’m not doing it anymore. Get your...shit...together, and let’s get to work.”

 

 


	5. Scotland

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edward’s POV and Alfred’s POV

Edward:

After what happened in class, I wasn’t so sure about how well we would work together, but we never discussed it. In fact, we spoke very little, aside from occasional formalities and to decide on a project. We were making a cardboard rocket, with the intent to get it to reach 100 feet in the air. We tried to interact as little as possible. So in the time he ignored me, I thought about Watson. I thought about how I’d almost kissed someone. A boy. In  _public_ , for God’s sake. And then about how he’d run off, pushed me away. About how I’d been left. Abandoned. And I didn’t even know what I’d done. So I turned my attention back to Alfred, and the cycle began anew.

Eventually, about a month and a half before the fair, winter break was fast approaching, and Peel decided that we had to get a certain amount of work done over break.

”Alright, my dudes.” Peel liked to be “hip”. He was not good at it.

“We’re getting into the next stage of the project. It should no longer be theory. You should be actualizing. Building. Doing calculations. So by the time you all get back, I expect to see your prototypes started. Now go forth, and don’t bother me.”

 

Alfred:

Weeks after Halloween, Sherlock was still on my mind. Those eyes, still vivid in my imagination. But I pushed him out of my mind for now. Because here in front of me, was Edward. And I couldn’t focus on them both. “Edward.” I said his name for the first time in weeks. “When should we meet?”

”I don’t care.”

”Well, we have to do it, so let’s pick a time and a place.”

”Fine. Your place. Wednesday after Christmas. Seven o’clock.”

”Fine by me.” I returned to my art. I doodled a lot. I always had, ever since I was a kid. I wasn’t great, but I liked drawing cartoons, and it relieved a lot of stress for me. If there was one thing I needed at that moment, it was stress relief.

That Wednesday after Christmas, at 7 o’clock exactly, the doorbell rang, and I answered it. Standing out in the snow, looking very, very cold, was Edward Drummond.

“Come on in.” I tried to smile as warmly as possible, which, unfortunately, was not very.

”Um, thanks.” He was trying to be friendly, too, but was struggling. “Honestly, Edward, let’s just let it go. I’m tired of this...animosity.” I played with the cuff on the sleeve of the new sweater I’d gotten for Christmas.

“Sure, Paget.” He smiled again, but he still wasn’t fully on board. I showed him into my kitchen, and we sat down to work, him on the calculations, me on the design. After working for hours, I crushed one of the two-liter bottles in my hand. “Fuck me!”

I heard Drummond mutter something unintelligible. “Come on, Edward. I know we’re not the best of friends, but I think even you can understand that we need a fuckin’ break here. I’m gonna lose my shit if I have to keep trying to piece these...plastic son-of-a-bitch fins together.”

Edward sighed and shut his book with a bang. “What did you have in mind?”

”There’s a pond a little ways down the road. They rent out skates and everything. Let’s head out.”

”I’m going to veto that plan.”

”Why?”

He flushed slightly, running a hand through his curly brown mane. “No...particular reason.”

”Really? Is that so?”

”Fine. I...I can’t skate.”

My eyebrows raised slightly, to which he responded with a small frown.

”Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I just think it’s odd that you live up north and can’t skate.”

”I didn’t always live up north, you know.”

”So where did you live?”

”Come on, Paget, let’s take it one thing at a time.”

He stood up and grabbed his coat. “Are we going or not?”

 

Edward:

 It was true that I didn’t know how to skate. It was also true that I hadn’t always lived up north. But that was a story I wasn’t yet prepared to share with a person I was barely friendly to, let alone friends. But I was getting bored working, so any excuse to get up was good. The two of us walked to the pond, chatting mindlessly, and rented skates. Alfred made fun of how tiny my feet were for such a tall guy, and I made fun of how short he was. It was nice to finally not be at each other’s throats.

”Okay, so to skate, you just want to push off of one foot, and glide very gently, then switch feet.” He faced me and held out his hands. “Grab on.” Even through the gloves, I could feel the heat radiating off his hands, and see the smile he tried to hide behind his scarf, which was so contagious it made me smile. He began to skate backwards, and I jolted forwards along with him, wobbling as he pulled me along.

”Whoa!” I slipped, falling on my butt. Alfred began to laugh, but stifled it enough to offer me a hand up. “It’s fine. If you didn’t fall at least twice, I’d probably think you had superpowers.”

”Well, I very clearly do not.” 

We practiced like this for a while, him pulling me along, me falling on my butt. Eventually, we took a break. “Jesus. I never thought skating would hurt my ass more than my feet, but I stand corrected.” I watched as skaters came and went, until we were some of the last few. “So you wondered where I was from. Earlier.”

He looked up, surprised.

”I lived in a number of places, but the last one was Zurich. Before that, it was Bombay, Kyoto, and Reykjavik, but I was born in London. When I lived in Iceland, though, I came out as asexual.” He looked puzzled, but I continued.

”Iceland isn’t supposed to be super anti-LGBT, so I thought I’d be fine. But I wasn’t. The kids at my school...they made fun of me. Said I was broken. That I was just ‘wimping out’ to make excuses for the fact that I’d never been with a girl. Needless to say, I didn’t tell them I was also bi.”

Now he didn’t even try to hide his surprise.

”So when I came here, I promised myself I’d lay low. Wouldn’t make too many friends, wouldn’t get too involved. And I didn’t. But now, it appears I’ve been forced to make a friend.” Now it was my turn to look at him. On his face was the widest, dumbest smile I’d ever seen. I could see the tooth he’d lost during a hockey game, the fourth one back on the right side. His dimples deepened even further. “In that case, I think it calls for another round!” He stood up and held his arms out to me. “Think you’re ready for a solo go?”

“Oh, definitely not.” But I stood up anyways, grinning as he offered me a hand, which I took gladly. “For support.”

So we skated along, hand-in-hand, to about the middle of the pond. “Okay, you ready for a trick?”

Alfred:

I gently let go of Edward’s hand, and skated slowly away. I got a good start, and took off into a triple axel. As I landed (perfectly, I might add) Edward began to applaud. “Thank you, thank you.” I bowed deeply.

”How did you learn how to do that?”

I smiled bashfully. “I did figure skating before I did hockey. I still remember a lot of stuff.”

”Well, it was excellent.”

”Thank you, thank you.” As I began to skate back to him, I heard a low crackling sound. Glancing down, I saw spindly cracks forming underneath me.

 "Oh, fuc-"

Edward:

"Alfred!" Without thinking, I lurched forwards, flying across the ice, barely noticing the biting chill of the wind, nor the fact that I was actually skating. For a moment, it was just me, snow in my eyes and my hair a mess, and then, there was warmth. My arms wrapped around him with all the force I could muster, and together we toppled down, rolling along the icy pond until we hit a snowbank.

"Shit." Alfred looked into my eyes, panting softly.

"You said it." I replied.

We stopped and just stared at each other for a while. Then, we both burst out laughing. We laughed for a time, but Alfred faded out before I did, and I noticed him looking at me peculiarly.

"What?" I asked, still laughing. "Why are you-" I was cut off then, because at that exact moment, Alfred, well-

Alfred kissed me. Hard. On the mouth. 

_With tongue._

 

Alfred:

I guess I don't know why I did it. It just...seemed right. He was laughing, which was, side note, the world's cutest laugh, and he has those little wrinkles around his eyes when he laughs, and I just couldn't hold it in.

As I pulled back, I saw his face, and he seemed...shocked? To say the least. "I'm sorry, was that o-"

Before I could finish my sentence, he leaned down and captured my mouth once more in another kiss. This kiss seemed even more magical than the last, and when he stopped, his eyes shone out through the snow, one a perfect green, like this same pond we were lying on, but in summer, when a tiny stream trickled in about where my head was resting, and trees hung over, their branches heavy with foliage, and the other the richest, most incredible brown, like an old wooden barn door, flecks of color shining through, both weathered and strong. These eyes were like something I'd known my entire life, and yet like something totally new.

Now once more, we both leaned in, and as he blinked his long, dark eyelashes closed, a sudden realization hit me. "Sherlock," I whispered into him. 

"What?"

"Nothing."

And at last, we had to come away from each other for the last time, and I took a deep breath. Our foreheads rested together, and our noses brushed. My heart beat fast. I had found Sherlock. And what's more, I had kissed him without vomiting. But he didn't know. He had to know. "Hey, Drummond?"

"Alfred, we just made out. You can use my first name."

"Sure, whatever. Anyways, do you remember Victoria's Halloween party?"

"Yeah, what about it?"

"Were you there?"

"Oh. Um, yeah."

"Were you dressed as Sherlock Holmes?"

"...Yeah. Why?"

"I...I was dressed as Watson."

I saw a little of the sparkle fade out of his eyes, those wonderful mismatched eyes, and for once, I knew what was going on behind them. He saw us, dancing together. He saw himself go in for it, and me push him away. He shifted back a little. He cleared his throat. "Okay. I...Okay. I'm...I'm gonna go. Um, goodbye, Paget."

He sat up and rolled himself off of me. Brushing the snow off himself, he skated away, wobbling like a little kid.

"Edward! Come on!" I tried to go after him, but this time, it was me who fell.


	6. Edward's Lament

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edward's POV

Edward:

I walked the whole way back to Alfred's house alone, the streetlights lighting my way like spotlights. Normally, I would have danced through them, pretending to be Fred Astaire in some old movie, holding an invisible Ginger Rogers. Or, I suppose, Gideon Rogers.

But this night, I walked, quickly, trying to get out as fast as possible. How could he not have told me that he was Watson? That he was the one who pushed me away, who made me feel like I was all alone? 

So I walked back to Alfred’s, alone. I stopped at the doorway he’d opened, remembering how my breath had caught in my throat as I saw him standing there, his hair neat and his sweater fitted tightly around his broad torso.

I strolled to my car, brushing snow and hair off of the windows. I heard steps crunch in the snow behind me. “Edward.”

Fuck him.

I ignored him and kept scraping.

”Edward, please.”

I pretended I was scraping his face.

”Eddy.” He rested a hand gently on my shoulder, to which I whipped around to face him.

”Stop! Don’t call me Eddy! We’re not...anything! We’re not even friends! So just stop!”

He took a step back, hurt. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. But...I mean, I just realized it was you, and if this turns into...something...I didn’t want it to be based on lies.”

”Don’t you get it? If we could be ‘something’ we already would be. But you know the kids here as well as, actually better, than I do. So you know what they’re like. And you know we can’t do this.” I went to open my car door, but Alfred slammed it shut. “Stop being so Zendaya in The Greatest Showman and let’s just both be Zac Efron, okay? I will sing if I have to.”

”Please don’t. We just can’t, okay? I...I want to. But considering how much I struggled to say that, how can we make this work?”

”Okay, so we’ll be together. Just...not for the world to see.” He looped an arm around my waist. “Just you and me, right?”

I wanted to relax, to give in to this, this wonderful boy, who wanted me, of all people. But I knew people, and this was going to break us.

”I’m sorry.” I slid his arm off and got into my car. “That’s just the way it is.” I shut the door and didn’t dare look back.


	7. The Way Things Are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred’s POV

Alfred:

That’s just the way things are.

I kept repeating that same sentence over and over in my mind.

That’s just the way things are.

I knew where he was coming from. Of course I did. But at the same time, couldn’t he see where I was coming from?

I knew what I had done, don’t get me wrong. And of course he had the right to say no to me. But thinking back on that night, when he didn’t know who I was, even if I’d gotten scared and run off, it was still better than the sinking feeling in my stomach as I watched Edward drive away.

One day, however, I had to go back to work on our project. And I absolutely dreaded it. But when I got there, Edward was "sick". And when I asked, his mom told me he’d been sick since I had, the night we'd gone skating.

I knew, of course, that I had to apologize, but for that, I had to consult Mina.

”Come on, Meen. You’re a nice person. What do I do to make it up to...this person?”

I always made sure not to use Edward’s name, but I’m sure Mina knew, she was just too polite to ask.

”Well, you’re an excellent artist. Maybe something with that? I don’t know.” She threw a piece of her sandwich bread off the balcony to pigeons below. “Look, Al, why can’t you just apologize to them? That seems like the best course of action.”

”Because that’s not enough, Mina.  What I did, it was...really, really,  _really_ bad. So I need a big gesture.”

”Okay, well, whatever you do, don’t write them a song. That never goes well.”

”Yeah, alright, Mina.”

I stood up and brushed myself off, surveying the courtyard. A few days after I’d come back, and still no sign of Edward. What would I do? I pulled out my notebook and began to sketch mindlessly. Slowly, a form took shape. A tall boy, plaid hat and cape, a thin pipe outstretched from his mouth. Then, the eyes. The most remarkable, magnificent, awe-inspiring eyes I'd ever seen. Eyes that reminded me of deserts and thunderstorms and mountain peaks all at the same time. Looking into his eyes made me feel the same way that running a mile in four minutes flat would make me feel, or like that last exhilarating moment after jumping off a cliff just before you hit the water. My chest tightened, and I finished the eyes, coloring one in green, the other in brown. Next, I drew a little blonde Watson on ice skates, his hand out, almost like a request. I flipped the paper over, and on the back I scrawled, "I'm sorry. Please talk to me." That afternoon, I slid the note into his mailbox.

The next morning, I walked to Edward's house, not sure if I wanted to see him or not. But then, all of a sudden, it didn't matter if I wasn't sure, because there he was. His eyes were red and puffy, his cheeks sunken. He looked about ten pounds lighter, and his eyes lost the brilliant sparkle I had come to recognize them by. I sat down silently next to him, and gave him a soft smile. He attempted one back, but couldn't seem to be able to get further than a grimace. He slid a piece of paper over to me. My drawing. I noticed a slight change in the color, and realized it was new writing on the back. In blue ink, he'd written, "sorry. I like u, but we cant talk here" I hadn't realized I was holding my breath, and let out a long breath.

He was left handed and I was right handed, so our hands, I remarked, were hanging dangerously close together. My pinkie reached out and grazed his, and his white-knuckled fist opened slightly, then all the way. He slowly looped his pinkie around mine, and our hands hung together for some time. I quite frankly could have stayed there forever, but as his mom approached, Edward quickly let go.

"Nice to see you back, Alfred," Mrs. Drummond commented.

"Nice to be back," I faked another smile, but his mom was not as perceptive as edward was. "Have at it."

I turned to Edward, and whispered to him, "Talk to me."

"Your house. Six. Not now."

And so, I decided, I would have to wait until 6. Wait for 10 painfully long hours, for one more time to talk to the boy I, well, liked. I wouldn't say loved. Not quite yet.


	8. Falling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edward's POV, Alfred's POV

Edward:

I was hesitant to meet Alfred, but considering that I'd spent the past week in my room crying over him, barely eating, barely sleeping, I decided it really couldn't be any worse. Which probably meant that it could. But, I went anyways, to hopefully make him a little less mad at me.

"Edward." He opened the door before I could knock, and I could see the ends of his sweater cuffs where he'd been distracting his hands, practically torn to shreds. I blinked, and felt tears, both from the cold wind and the knowledge that I could be wrong. It was true, I could. But I saw nothing wrong with caution. I wish I'd had more caution at my last school.

"Hi, Alfred."

"So..."

"Look, Alfred. I asked to meet you here because, well, I felt like I owed you an apology. I was...harsh. To say the least. And I shouldn't have been. What you suggested wasn't _totally_ out of the picture." His face lit up. "But I still don't think it's a good idea." And once again, it fell. "I know how many times I've said this, but I'm so, _so_ sorry. You know how much I want to say otherwise, but something just keeps holding me back. I can try to make it easier for the both of us. I can transfer into another science class, if you want, but-"

"No. Don't. It's alright." Alfred tried his best to look happy, but it cracked and tears started to roll down his face.

"Alfred." I reached out to help him, but he turned away.

"Just stop," he snapped, and I turned to walk away. "Wait." He stood up and grabbed my arm. I whirled around, and once again, he kissed me, bringing back memories of snow and skates and falling. Both actual falling and my falling for him. I melted into the kiss, like the snow melted around us, and we seemed to radiate pure heat, pure energy.

 

Alfred:

I honestly was not totally sure what I was thinking. I remember thinking that even tear-and-snow-soaked and in the middle of rejecting me, I couldn't stop thinking about how beautiful he was. The way the flakes caught in his long, dark lashes, the way he bit his lip to hold back emotion, the way his hands seemed to involuntarily move, one reaching up to cup my face, the other tightly encompassing my waist, holding me as close to him as he could, like we would die if we weren't touching. My hand crept up his torso, firmly pressed to his chest, feeling his heart beat, almost totally in sync.

We stayed like that, together in the snow, kissing almost as insistently as if it was like breathing. Finally, he pulled back, running his fingers through my hair one last time. "I want you," He whispered.

"You have me," I replied, "if you really mean it."

"I do. But..."

"Stop with the buts, Edward. Either be with me or don't."

"Oh. Okay. I...God, Alfred, don't you see how hard this is for me?"

"Don't you see how hard it is for _me?_ I'm the one who knows all of these people! I'm the one who has to deal with the fallout from my friends! You, I'm your only friend, as far as I can see. But I'm willing to let some of that go if you'd just _decide_."

"I can't decide. If you knew my family, if you knew me-"

"I've tried to get to know you! I have. But you never want to tell me anything."

"I know, and I'm sorry." He grabbed my hands and rubbed them in his. "Just hold on."

"Okay. But we have to be more careful. Pretend nothing's up."

"Got it. Let's go."

 

 


	9. Caricatures of Normal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edward's POV

Edward:

Walking into first hour on Monday after break was kind of a dream and a nightmare simultaneously. A dream because I could see Alfred again, but a nightmare because I couldn't touch him. Couldn't hold his hand, rub noses, and definitely not kiss him. So kind of a mixed bag. But it was better than not having him. When I opened my locker, on my way to Peel's class, I noticed a slip of paper fall out, which I picked up and turned over to reveal a little sketch of two boys in the snow, holding hands, one with blue eyes, the other with one brown, one green. I slid it into the pages of one of my notebooks, and went to class.

As I slid in next to Alfred, our fingers grazed and we both grinned. "Thanks for the doodle." I said, diverting my attention to my notebook so no one could tell I was talking to him.

"You're very welcome. It's the least I can do for you," he murmured, doing the same.

"Alfredo Sauce! What's up, my man?" Albert entered the room, bro-hugging Alfred as he went to sit down. 

"Not much, what's up with you?" Alfred replied, completely diverted.

"Well, Victoria and I were talking this weekend about how we ought to find you a girlfriend, right? And I was all like, 'my boy Alfred is a catch!' So there's this girl-"

"I'll stop you right there, Albert. I'm not interested in a girlfriend at the moment." It took everything I had in me not to jump up and wrap my arms around him. 

"Okay, but just listen to me. This girl, Alfred, she's amazing."

"Sorry, Albert. Just not gonna happen."

"Whatever, dude. Sorry for trying to help you, I guess."

"Wow, you seem...very upset about this."

Alfred perched himself back on his chair next to me. "I can't go out with this girl because I'm having some issues in my love life already."

I froze. Problems? I didn't think there were problems.

"Ooh, tell me more." Albert whipped around at the sound of gossip, and I leaned closer, trying to catch the conversation without being obvious.

"Well, I'm kind of dating this...girl. We've kissed a couple of times, and..." He glanced at me and then back at Albert. "Actually, I'll tell you later."

He sat back down. "So, problems?" I asked, gripping my pen with white knuckles.

"Well, what would you call it, Drummond?"

"I don't know, _Paget_. It's...complicated."

"Exactly." He stacked his books. "I'll see you after school. We need to work more. We'll meet in the library."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out my new (wildly depressing) Drumfred story! It's hella angsty


	10. Sipping Tea and Spilling Tea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred’s POV

Alfred:

I left a little drawing in Edward's locker every day that week. And every day, he'd come into class and give me the tiniest, sweetest smile. I would try to reciprocate, but how could I, knowing what I'd told Albert this morning. 

"Okay, Alfred, what was going on with you yesterday? Spill the tea." Albert and I sat in a little hipster coffee shop, the kind where they only play indie folk music and have vintage bicycles on the walls, and serve their coffee in chipped flowerpots. "I'm just going to drink my tea, thanks," I said, and took a sip of the strong tea, the bitter taste warming my insides in the same way I felt when I was kissing Edward. And the story just came flooding out. "So this girl, we didn't really like each other at first, but then we started hanging out, and we...kissed."

Albert's eyes widened as he almost spit out his coffee. 

"So anyways, it was fine for a little while, but then she found out I'd accidentally lied to her about, uh...dogs. I told her I didn't have a dog because she's allergic. To dogs. And I have a dog."

"...Right."

"So she got mad at me, and she doesn't think her family would let us be together. So I tried to convince her to go out with me, for real. And she said she would...eventually."

"Oh, I see what's happening here."

Now it was my turn to almost do a spit take. "You do?"

"Yeah, your, uh..." He gestured vaguely.

"My what?"

"Christ, do I have to spell it out for you? Your balls! They're blue!"

A red-hot blush crept across my cheeks. "No, Albert. Get your head out of the gutter. I'm talking about actual love." I froze. Love? I hadn't meant to say love. I didn't love Edward, yet. I couldn't. Right?

"Oh. My. God. You love her?" Albert exclaimed excitedly. 

"Shut up!" I punched him in the arm. He winced, but his eyes remained open wide.

"I don't know. Maybe. She's...the best. Ugh. Why can't this be easier?"

"Well, I knew I loved Victoria pretty early on. Love isn't patient, like they say. It waits for no man. If you love her, tell her. She can't have all the control over you. If you want to be with her, make sure she knows you're in it for the long run."

"I feel like I have."

"If she hasn't said yes, you haven't. You don't need some big romantic gesture. Just tell her."

I swished my tea pensively. I'd always been a hopeless romantic, but I'd literally known Edward for 3 months. And we legitimately didn't talk for half of that.

"If you don't  _love_ her yet, at least tell her you, I don't know, like her?"

"Yeah, you know what? You're right. I don't know if I love...her, but I do  _like_ her!"

"Yeah! Okay! Great! Go do it!"

"What, you mean right now?"

"Yeah, you've got this weird manic energy. It's kinda hot."

"Oh. Cool."

We stood awkwardly for a minute.

"Go!" Albert shoved me out the door, and I took off running. I had to find Edward. I had to find him.


	11. Baskin-Robbins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred's POV, Edward's POV

Alfred:

My feet hit the ground, running like I'd never run before. I had to get to Edward before class. I just had to. I ran to school, locating his locker, and planted myself there, sure he'd come in and see me, and it would be like a moment in a teen rom-com, where I'd tell him I liked him, and we'd kiss, and the whole school would applaud.

"Hey!" Someone shook me out of my thoughts. Mina, weighted down by textbooks and XL lattes bounced over to me. "Not now, Meen, I'm waiting for Edward." Her face fell. "Oh. You didn't hear."

"Hear about what?" The concern in her voice made me wince.

"Um, Edward...Harriet saw him at Baskin-Robbins last night with, uh...with Florence."

"Okay, I'm glad to see he's making friends."

"No, Alfred. They were holding hands."

"Oh. Okay." I tried my best to hide the break in my voice. "Why do I care?"

"Come on, Al. I know how you feel about him. You've never been subtle."

I plastered a wide smile on my face. "I don't know what you mean, Wilhelmina. I've barely talked to him. We're just lab partners."

"Whatever you say. Just thought you'd like to know." Mina shrugged and walked off. I crumpled against the lockers, a phony smile still settled on my face. "Oh, hey, Alfred!" Edward came up to me, grinning puzzledly. "What are you doing here?"

I suddenly remembered I was still at his locker, and I quickly composed myself. "Nothing. Just thought I'd stop by. That okay?"

"Yeah, but," he lowered his voice, "I thought we'd agreed to be more subtle, right?"

"Yeah, right. Sorry." I ducked my head and bolted. That stupid, stupid, absolutely gorgeous smile. I had never wanted so badly to kiss him, which was confusing, because I always wanted to kiss him, but I had expected to be, I don't know, angry? And yet, I had not right to. We'd never become official. Hell, nobody knew we were dating. But I'd still thought he'd appreciate me enough to tell me if he was getting a fake girlfriend or something. I was facing a moral dilemma, and at a time like that, there was nothing I wanted more than a stiff drink. But it was 7:00 in the morning. On a Wednesday. And I was at school. I guessed coffee would have to do. Preferably the biggest one available. "Hey Mina, wait up!"

 

Edward:

I didn't know why Alfred was being so weird. There was no way he knew about Florence, right? I mean, I'd only gone out with her because our moms worked together and thought we'd be cute. I remembered the date, how unpleasant it had been. I'd arrived to pick her up at her house about 7. We'd driven the entire way to Baskin-Robbins in total silence. I paid for her ice cream, and we ate in more silence. Then out of the blue, she'd grabbed my hand. I think some ex-boyfriend of hers was walking by and she wanted him to be jealous. Either way, I was very uncomfortable. I told my mom when I got home that I didn't think it would work out, and she laughed it off and told me, "Oh, honey, nobody ever thinks it will. Just invite her over for dinner later this week, and you'll see, eventually."

That seemed true, considering how the first time I'd met Alfred I despised him immediately, literally just because he was nice, and athletic, and, holy hell, absolute fucking perfection. I still thought that. I headed to class early, just in time for my weekly meeting with Peel. I don't know how I ended up as a TA. My second day in class, he'd just kind of walked over and said, "Drummond. You seem somewhat intelligent, and you're actually the only person here interested in science. Fill out this form, and come talk to me tomorrow after school."

I usually would have said no, but I needed college application fuel, so I did it anyway. "Dr. Peel." I knocked on the door to his office. He was buried under mountains of red pen-marked tests and old labs. "Oh! Edward! Hello." His red-brown curls appeared above a stack of atomic theory papers, and he brushed them out of his way as he came to greet me. "Edward, I need you to grade those tests from last week." He deposited a stack of heavily pencil-streaked papers in my hands. "Okay, thanks." I sat down to get started. I felt as if I was glancing at the clock every ten seconds, waiting for the moment the bell would ring and I would see Alfred come in and sit down next to me. I would see him peek up at me, an almost imperceptible smile turning up the ends of his mouth. But the bell rang, and I watched people flow into the room. But I saw no sign of Alfred. Throughout the hour, I kept my eyes locked on the door. He never came. After class, I put the finished tests on Peel's desk. As I was set to leave, I turned around. "Dr. Peel, where was Alfred? I saw him this morning."

"Oh. Alfred, he, uh, he dropped this class."

"What?" I was shocked. 

"He didn't say why, just that he didn't need the credits and he didn't want to do what wasn't necessary."

"Nothing about me?"

"No. I just got the email a few minutes ago. I would try to convince him to come back. It's not very fair for him to leave you this huge project--"

"It's fine, Peel. I was doing most of the work anyway." The words came out flat and emotionless. 

"Are you sure? You seemed close."

"Why would you say that?" I sat up, suddenly.

"Oh, no reason. I know you didn't talk much, but I'm not as oblivious as you think." With that, he left, abandoning me to find a reason in the devastation I was suddenly left with. He left because of me, that I was sure of, but I didn't know what I'd done. One thing was clear, though. I would find out.


	12. All Kinds Of Weird

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred's POV

Alfred:

I had gone down to see my dean that morning immediately after seeing Edward. I had insisted on dropping the course, on the basis that I had all the science credits I needed. I felt bad about lying to Edward and leaving him to work on our project alone, but knowing that he'd lied to me, even by omission, I couldn't help but feel mislead. He would have told me if he'd gotten a fake girlfriend, I'm sure of it, and he didn't which must have meant he would know I'd be upset, which meant there was reason to be upset, which meant he really was lying!

Overly thought-out theories aside, I also just hated the class. And Edward. And Edward's stupidly attractive face. Shit!

The next morning, I opened my locker to find a small, torn slip of notebook paper, with a few lines of wavering script.

"Love is too young to know what conscience is,

Yet who knows not conscience is born of love?

Then, gentle cheater, urge not my amiss,

Lest guilty of my faults thy sweet self prove"

I scoffed and crumpled up the paper. Edward thought he could get me back with a few lines of a sonnet. Pfft.

I tossed it in the trash and ran off to join Albert and Ernest. "Hey, Alfredo Sauce! How'd it go with that girl?" Albert clapped an arm around my shoulders. I winced. "Not good, buddy. Not good."

"Yikes. Well, that sucks. I'm really sorry."

"No, it's fine. I'm dealing. But hey, Ernest, you have first hour free, right?"

"Yeah." Ernest was rather quiet, kind of the stereotype of the angsty pianist.

"Cool. Well, we can, uh, get coffee before school now, right?"

Ernest nodded. I trailed off uncomfortably. "Hey, Alfred!" I whirled around to see who was speaking. "Oh. Edward. What's up?"

"Can I talk to you?"

"Um, why, dude?" I laughed uneasily and glared at him.

"Just...I need your notes. For our project." He stared me down pointedly.

"Sure. I'll leave them with Peel."

"Why not give them to me now?"

"I don't have them with me."

He looked at me for a long time, before nodding decisively. "Great." He stalked away, a rigidity in him I'd never seen before. He was always unyielding, but this was different. He looked like he had a mechanical exoskeleton attached to his body, holding him up and forcing him to walk away. My heart sank watching him, but Albert snapped me out of it. "Yo, man, what was that? He was so...angry."

"I don't even know, man. I think he's just pissed I left him to work on the project. He was doing most of it anyways."

"Weird."

"Ha. Yep."


	13. Limited Options

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred's POV, Edward's POV

Alfred:

I was true to my word and stopped by Dr. Peel's office on my way to track practice. Hockey was over, and I needed something to occupy my mind, for which nothing was better than a good long run. I knocked softly on the doorframe to the office. "Ah, Alfred. I was, shall we say, disappointed to hear you dropped my class. Especially since you seemed to be improving your grades since starting your project with Edward." Peel tried to sound cool most of the time, but started speaking like an old man when he was serious.

"Yeah, I know, but I realized I had enough credits, and I'm sorry to have left Edward with the project, but to be honest, it was mostly done and he was doing most of the work anyways."

"Sure." He immediately saw through my thinly veiled excuses. "You're sure it wasn't _because_ of Edward?"

"What?" I laughed miserably.

"I see." He gestured for me to sat and I obliged. "Alfred, what happened with you two? I see the looks, see the way you move around each other. You weren't like that at the beginning of the year."

"I don't think I need to be here." I began to stand up, but he stopped me. "You don't. And you can go if you want. But I think Edward had something to do with your leaving. Am I right about that?"

"I'm fine, Sir." I tossed down the notebook and left.

 

Edward:

I was stunned by Alfred's curt response that morning. I had assumed that the poem I left in his locker wouldn't work, but as an artistically inept socially under-functioning nerd, I had limited options and limited means. I still wasn't 100% sure why he'd been so upset. I pulled out my phone, tapping my nervous fingers on the leather case.

 _what was that this morning?_ I texted Alfred, coming out unintentionally angry. I saw the little trio of bubbles that let me know he was typing, but his response left me dissatisfied.

_IDK_

_what about science class?_

_IDK_

Same answer. I figured I wasn't getting anywhere, so I slipped my phone back in my pocket. I needed a plan, to ambush Alfred so he couldn't ignore me. I got to Peel's class to pick up Alfred's notes, and when I got there Peel was peering at me bizarrely. "Can I help you, Doctor?"

"No, Edward. Here's the notes."

"Oh. Thanks." I grabbed the notes off the counter, and began to leave. Peel's hand grabbed my shoulder as I advanced towards the door. "Wait, Edward. Can I ask, and it's probably none of my business, but what happened with you and Alfred?"

I took a deep breath and turned around. "I'm not sure, but I plan to find out. See you later, Doc."


	14. Limited Means

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edward's POV

Edward:

Weeks passed. Still nothing. Alfred must have blocked my number because he stopped replying to my texts. I kept thinking of ways to talk to him. Now, a month had passed. Then two more weeks. It was the early days of February, and my hope for a connection was all but lost when I finally came up with a plan. Knowing that Alfred had first period off now, I planned to wait by his locker about halfway through the hour, which was, according to Harriet, AKA the Gossipmonger, when he usually got to school. I knew skipping science would bring me shit later on, but at this point, I was exhausted of waiting. Nevertheless, I waited some more.

Halfway through first hour, almost on the dot, Alfred walked down the hall. As he saw me, I watched him grimace, but getting to his locker was a necessity. I smiled internally at my inner genius. "Edward. To what do I owe the _pleasure_?" Alfred growled, his blue eyes cold and vacant.

"Hello, Alfred," I greeted him genially. "I would like you to meet me for dinner this Friday night."

"Nope."

"I don't think you understand, Alfred, I-"

"No, _Edward_." He full-out _snarled_ at me now. "You don't understand _me._ I don't want to hang out with you. You lied to me. Now you pay the price." He slammed his locker shut. "Good day."

"Wait, Alfred." As I placed a hand softly on his back, I felt him soften beneath my touch. "I know. But if you meet me, I can make it all clear. I promise."

"Fine, whatever. Six o'clock. Annie's Diner. You're going to explain yourself."

"Yes I am." I beamed successfully as he sauntered away.

That Friday couldn't come soon enough, and eventually, it came. Ignoring the hour of freak-out/regret time I had set aside, it honestly took me about four hours to get ready. Shower, dry hair, comb hair, try to use product, use product wrong, shower again, dry hair again, comb hair again, avoid product, shave, deodorant, style hair, get dressed, hate outfit, get redressed, repeat previous three steps four times, scream into the void, brush teeth, and done! Plus, in case that sounded like a perfect night, my mom also had the car, so I was walking. Yay!

Adjusting my shirt in the mirror one last time (maroon quarter-zip), I breathed slowly and tried to steel myself. This was it. I would explain what happened with Florence (which I assumed was why he was angry), and he would forgive me, and we'd kiss dramatically in the snow (or not). My coat hung on a hook above the door and as I reached for it, I noticed a tremble in my hand. Steadying myself, I put every instinct I had aside. Up to this point, instinct had led me away from Alfred. Tonight, I wouldn't let it get in my way.

The sidewalk was lined with snow and lights, just like the ones I'd walked through the night Alfred and I went skating. The night he kissed me. Tonight was the same kind of magical night, snowflakes brushing past me, a light breeze that didn't freeze my ass off but turned cheeks flushed and ears red. The stars were hardly visible through the brilliant sunset, painting the blue sky with streaks of gold. Alfred's colors. I saw his glacier-blue eyes in the fast-fading clouded sky. I saw his gilded curls in the sun, and for once I didn't mind being blinded. I saw his smooth jawline against the horizon. I saw him in the vivid shades of plum and periwinkle, the brightest oranges and the muted pinks. I saw him in the stars, the same illuminating glow from them that I missed seeing in him. But tonight, I would see it all again. Every tint of the silver hued sky brought me one step closer. _Crunch. Crunch._ One step. Two steps. _Crunch. Crunch._ Three steps. Four steps. _Crunch crunch. Crunch crunch._ Someone was walking behind me now. Five steps. Six steps. _Crunch crunch. Crunch crunch._ Still behind me. Seven steps. Eight steps. _Crunch crunch. Crunch cr-_ Nine steps.

As I began to take my tenth, the figure behind me reached out a hand. To fall, perhaps, or to feel out in the dark. Instead, the sweeping hand caught my back, driving me fiercely into an alleyway. A loose brick in the street caught my foot, and as the toe of my shiny brown shoes scuffed, I collapsed headfirst into a brick wall. Blood ran down my face, warm and sticky. "Your wallet," The blurry figure before me commanded. My eyes refocused slightly, and I was able to see that he was holding a handgun. I fumbled for the wallet in my back pocket, careful to slip out the driver's license within before handing it to my attacker, sure he didn't notice. "This all the money you got?" He questioned, gesturing wildly with the gun. I nodded, desperate for him to let me go. He looked hesitant. "You sure?"

"Y-yes. I'm sure."

"Really? Because I saw you take something out of there. Now," he cocked the gun, " _give me your money."_

"I did, I swear! It's just my driver's license. Please, I'm just a kid, I-"

**_BANG_ **

I never saw it coming.


	15. What's Up?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred's POV

* * *

Alfred:

I got to Annie's early, apprehensive about Edward's arrival. I wanted to be there, looking cool and calm. I wanted him to be the anxious one. A waitress came to take my drink. She asked if I was still waiting. I was. My water came with the quarter hour. He was late. I drank my water. The ice melted. The same waitress came for my order. I got a plate of nachos. They sat, untouched. A half hour. I gave in and ate the nachos. I finished them off with the hour. By 7:15, I'd given up all hope. Sirens whizzed down the street. I texted Edward.

_where r u?_

No reply.

Another five minutes.

_this is really shitty_

Nothing. I paid. Walking out, I went slowly, hoping, no,  _praying_ he would show, breathless and pink-cheeked, some dumb story about traffic flowing as easily as the snow from the clouds. But he never came. And so I went. I couldn't believe he'd done this, gone to all this trouble to get me out here then abandoned me for god knows what reason. Probably because of Florence. My breath froze in front of me and the sounds of winter, cars driving through slush and the depressed snow crunching beneath my shoes echoed in my thoughts alongside his voice saying, “I’d like it if you’d join me for dinner. Dinner. Hah.

I slipped my earbuds in and hit shuffle on my playlist.  _What’s Up_ by 4 Non Blondes came on, and I hummed along. The somber song both lifted and dimmed my spirits.   The icy sidewalk reflected the streetlights, and as I focused on them, I slipped and fell on my ass. What a way to end a goddamned perfect night, right?

Regardless of the shitty previous night, the sun still rose as beautifully as ever. I packed my backpack and set off for school. When I got there, I met up with Mina. “Oh my God, Meen. Wait until I tell you what happened last night. So Edward asked me out to dinner, and then he _stood me up._ Seriously." Mina's face fell and turned white as a sheet. Her mouth moved as if she were speaking, but no words came out. Finally, she cleared her throat. "Um, Alfred?"

"Yeah?"

"Edward's in the hospital."

My face fell from perplexed to horrified. I was choking. I couldn't speak, I couldn't breathe. It felt like my blood was replaced with ice water, and my heart felt as if it was being hammered into my chest. I bit my lip to stop the trembling and as I did so, tasted blood seeping into my mouth. My hands drew into white-knuckled fists and I realized my fingernails were leaving tiny crescent-shaped indents, so tight as to draw blood. I choked down a scream and forced a neutral expression onto my face. "Why?" I inquired, my voice sounding empty and raw, as if I'd been screaming for days at a time.

"He was shot."

I went still. Shot? He'd been _shot?_ I had been so angry about him standing me up, while he bled out in the snow.

I offered Mina a slight, but distorted, smile. "I have to go." I ran away. Literally ran. I ran out of the school, ran down the street. My legs pumped so hard the muscles spasmed but I kept running. My heart pounded faster than a hummingbird's, but I kept running. I thought the running would occupy my thoughts, but all I could think about was how Edward, _my Edward,_ had been _shot. Shot._ Well, not _my_ Edward. Not anymore. But Edward. The boy with the high cheekbones, olive skin, those magnificent multicolored eyes, _shot._ I couldn't believe it. I eventually had to stop, because I literally could not breathe, both from shock and from fatigue. I panted and looked around. I wasn't 100% sure where I was, but it was a park of some variety. I brushed the snow off a bench and sat down. I dropped my face in my hands and felt wetness on my cheeks. I hadn't even realized I was crying. Why was I crying? Edward and I weren't even together anymore. In fact, I was so angry at him, I'd dropped a class. He lied to me. So why was I so upset about this? Not to mention if I should go see him in the hospital.

I removed my face from my hands and steadied them on my knees. What to do? Was I angry enough that it outweighed how much I cared about Edward? How could I make this decision? My heart felted physically heavier than it had earlier. I had a choice to make. And just like that, it was made.


	16. Sent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred's POV

Alfred:

I never went back to school that day or the day after. I told my mom I was sick, and she asked me if it had anything to do with "that boy", that boy being Edward. It did, of course, but I promised it was just coincidence and stayed home for a week. I spent those lonely days in my room, the blinds pulled and door closed, getting up only for water and the occasional bowl of popcorn. Aside from that, I stayed under several heavy blankets, the weight of the blankets matching the weight of my guilt. I had decided not to see Edward, but the way I felt now made me reconsider, and it wasn't just the dehydration and lack of exercise from skipping track practice. It was the knowledge that I wouldn't be there when he got better, and I wouldn't be there to finally hear him explain himself. 

My phone blew up with texts when I disappeared, but I ignored most of them. However, when Mina called me, I gave in. "What, Meen?" I asked irritably.

"Oh, good, you're not dead."

"Yep. What do you want?"

"I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Yeah, I'm just fine and fucking dandy."

"Okay? You told me you barely knew Edward."

"Yeah, Mina. I know. But you told me you knew what was going on."

"Ha! I knew it!"

"Not the time, Mina."

"Shit. Sorry. Anyways, have you gone to see him yet?"

"No, why would I? He lied to me."

"So? If you love him-"

"Whoa, whoa. I don't  _love_ him."

"Okay, then if you like him...Alfred, he could die." We sat silently for a minute.

"Fine. I'll go."

"Good. Love you, Al."

"Love you too, Meen."

I rolled out of bed and stared at myself in the mirror. I hadn't showered in days, my eyes were red and bloodshot, and my face looked sunken and strange. Nothing like the boy I was when I was with Edward. I hopped in the shower, but the hot water just made me want to go back to bed, so I cranked it back to the coldest setting. The freezing water shocked my skin and opened my eyes, but I finally felt awake again. 

"Hey Mom?" I paused for a response. "What, Al?"

"I'm feeling better, so I'm going out. I'll see you later."

"Bye, Honey!"

I grabbed my backpack and wandered out of the house, both sure and totally unsure of where I was going. As I turned the ignition in my car, I my mind was made up. The gas pedal depressed under my foot and I set off en route to the hospital. On the way, I got an idea and stopped off at a local florist. With the help of a website about flower language, I put together a bouquet of maidenhair fern (secret bond of love), gardenia (secret love), peonies (gay life, which I thought was appropriate), and red tulips (confession of love), all of which I thought sent the message that I liked (maybe even loved?) him and secret or not, I wanted to be with him. I wrapped them in plastic and slipped them in my backpack as best I could without crushing them.

The hospital seemed too small. Not in the physical sense, but more that it couldn't possibly contain everything Alfred was feeling. He got past the front desk easily, but paused outside of the room he'd been directed to. Through the window he could see Edward lying on the bed, his eyes shut. He must have been sleeping. Next to him was a woman, equally as tall as Edward if not taller, her face buried in a thick book, a pair of thick reading glasses perched on her nose in front of her chocolaty brown eyes, just like one of Edward's. Alfred exhaled and knocked softly as he opened the door. "Hello." the woman, who must have been Edward's mother, glanced up at him. "You must be a friend of Edward's. Good. Nobody else has come to visit."

"Yes, I'm Alfred. I'm Edward's lab partner."

"Nice to meet you, Alfred. I was about to go grab some lunch down in the cafeteria. Would you like anything?" She and Edward had the same soft-spoken but powerful way about them.

"No, thank you. I'm just going to hang out for a bit if that's alright with you."

"Okay. Take your time." She nodded and smiled before exiting the room. I pulled the slightly crushed flowers out of my bag and set them gently on the bedside table. I pulled up a chair next to the bed and reached out for Edward's hand. "Hey, Ed. Sorry. Edward. I'm sorry about being so angry before. I know you couldn't tell, obviously, but I'm still sorry. God, I can't believe this happened to you. It never would have happened if...if I hadn't been such a goddamned coward."

"Hey." I peered down to see Edward looking up at me, his glorious eyes opened, one surrounded by bruises, all purple and black. "You're not a coward, just so you know. I am. I should have told you about Florence."

"Yeah, what was up with that?"

"Jesus. Getting right to the point. It's not like I was shot last week or anything."

"Sorry, but seriously."

"Yeah, okay. Our parents set us up. I promise, Alfred. You...give me reason to wake up in the morning. Like nobody else. Especially not Florence. Because how," he laced his fingers with mine, "could I be into anybody else when you're an option?" He smiled sweetly up at me.

"I'm a catch, aren't I?" He laughed and immediately began to wince in pain.

"Oh, shit, Edward. I'm sorry, honey." He raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"Honey? Yikes."

"Sorry. I don't know what else to call you, though."

"Do I have to have a pet name?"

"No, I suppose you don't. I like pet names, though."

"Ha. No."

My smile quickly faded.

"What's wrong?"

"I just...are things going to be any different this time? Are we just going to be keeping secrets until God knows when?"

"I-" He sighed heavily. "I'm not sure. I just know that we at least need to be together."

"It's fine, Edward. But please, let me know as soon as you're ready, okay? Because I really, _really,_ like you."

"I do too." I leaned down and pressed my lips to his in a quick but spirited kiss. As I pulled back, the door opened and I quickly let go of his hand, dropping mine to my side. "Oh! Edward. You're awake." Edward's mom grabbed the hand I had just released and smiled pleasantly. "Hello again, Alfred."

"Hello, Mrs. Drummond. I'm just heading out. It was nice to meet you." I reached over and shook her hand vigorously, sending Edward a wink as I left. The breeze outside blew my hair around and I glanced around, looking for my car. As I did, a man and a little girl caught my eye. Probably a father and daughter, both holding heart-shaped balloons and teddy bears. "Come on, Angie. Let's go see Mommy." And I suddenly realized it was Valentine's Day. I hadn't been conscious of the days when I'd been locked in my room. Huh. I pulled out my phone and fired off a quick text to Edward.

_happy V day_

Send. Then, after a moment of hesitation,

_< 3_

Sent.


	17. Everything is Fine

Edward:

I returned to school the following week. Alfred hadn't come back to science, but I hadn't expected him to. However, a day without Alfred gets boring so I texted him.

_Meet me in the library after school_

He texted back shortly after.

_k but I gotta get to practice we have a meet friday  
_

So we met at the library, in between shelves YA Fiction A-E and F-K. "Hey." I leaned down and kissed him softly.

"Whoa. Whatever happened to 'not here'?"

"You know, being shot gives you some brand-new fucking insights."

"Ha. No shit." I kissed him a couple more times.

"So are we just giving up on secrecy?" He injected.

"Hmm." I pondered for a moment. "How about," I brushed his cheek with my thumb, "we say I don't care anymore. I'll do it. Do you trust me? I trust you."

"You do?" A smile lit up his face. "Thank you. I mean it. And of course I trust you."

I planted a kiss on his forehead. "Honestly, I asked you to meet me because I just can't get through a day without seeing you."

"Aww. I know how you feel."

My heart warmed as I stood there, even as I towered over Alfred, even though we were hiding between the shelves, even though I didn't know what was going to happen. It cooled a bit, though, as he pulled away. "I gotta get to practice." Blowing me a kiss over his shoulder as he left, panic finally set in. I was completely vulnerable. Like I'd never been before. I was 100% at his mercy. And yet, for once, I wasn't worried. I trusted Alfred. He trusted me. Trust was nice.

 

Alfred:

Leaving the library, leaving the warmth and comfort that I found even in hiding and secrecy, was one of the hardest things I ever had to do. But on the plus side, I left knowing that Edward trusted me with his secrets. He trusted me for the best time to go public. He, of course, had no reason not to trust me. But it was nice to trust him.

Lunch on Thursday was warm and sunny, for the first time in months, so just about everyone was outside, including Edward and I, although we weren't sitting together. He sat up on my favorite balcony, a green apple in one hand and a leather-backed book in the other. I squinted to see the title.  _Romeo and Juliet._ I nearly burst out laughing. Wilhelmina, Albert, Ernest, and I rushed to get our usual picnic table just below Edward. About halfway through lunch I got up to dump my tray and I glanced up to see Edward, who stood up carefully and cleared his throat loudly. "Hello, everyone." His calm voice was drowned out by the vast sea of students. "Hello?" He tried again. Resigning himself, he grabbed a pair of trays and banged them together loudly. Now everyone looked up. "Hello," he said pleasantly, dropping the violet trays to his sides. "I have a brief announcement, which you probably aren't going to care about. I'm new to the whole 'grand gesture' thing." He wavered slightly. "My name is Edward Drummond. And I..." He peered down at me, which seemed to restore his confidence. Winking down, he surveyed his semi-eager audience and began again. "I like Alfred Paget, and I don't give a damn who knows it!" I nearly burst out laughing until I realized nobody was moving but to stare over at me. But I didn't care. I shrugged and called over Albert and Ernest. "Dudes, give me a lift." I half expected them to stay seated where they were, but they obliged, grabbing my legs and hoisting me so I could get a hold on the edge of the balcony, which I deftly clambered up, leaning over to kiss Edward warmly.

I pulled away to find the entire courtyard staring at us, which, though I'd been prepared for it, bewildered me entirely. It didn't seem like a big deal, although screaming it from a balcony probably made it bigger. What worried me more, though, were my friends' reactions. Terrified, I directed my gaze to Mina, Albert, and Ernest, who all stood gawking at Edward and I. When they saw how distressed I'd become, however, they rushed to my aid. "Problem?" Albert practically bared his teeth. Mina helped me down off the wall. Regardless of the quiet judgement that had settled over the crowd, my smile would not fade. 

I went home after lunch, not feeling like dealing with my friends and classmates. I didn't go the next day, either. Since meeting Edward, I'd missed more school in one year than the previous eleven years combined. Thinking of that, I chuckled softly to myself. Edward was nothing like an illness, aside from the fact that he made me feel warm inside and that he just wouldn't seem to go away. In a good way, of course. However, I did have a track meet in a couple days, so I felt somewhat obligated to go to practice. I showed up in my purple sweats, just like a normal day. Everyone greeted me with a smile, albeit some a little forced, just like a normal day. We stretched and warmed up, just like a normal day. And as we began our run, I fell in step-by-step next to Albert, who granted me a weak smile and no words. Not like a normal day.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He said at last, his voice quiet and hoarse, almost like he'd been...crying?

"I...I don't know. I didn't tell anyone."

"You told him."

Albert's face now held an expression of anger, but his tone didn't match. He just sounded hurt.

"No, Albert. We were making out for months and I didn't tell him." I laughed. Albert didn't.

"Months?"

"Yeah. Months. Since winter break."

"Oh my god. You've been together for almost three months and you didn't tell me? What about that girl, huh? How will she-" The realization dawned on him and I braced myself, preparing for the angry words that would never come.

"There was no girl, was there?" There was no anger in his voice, only contempt with notes of sadness and guilt. I could only nod.

"It was always him?" I nodded again.

Now he laughed, a scornful laugh, more like a cackle than anything else. "God, Alfred. Am I blind?" 

"Blind?"

"I didn't notice. The three of us were in the same class for almost six months and I never noticed anything."

"You're not blind. We kept it way under wraps."

"Yeah, but I'm your best friend."

"I know. I know."

We ran in silence for a little while longer, the only sound the soft  _thump_ of our shoes meeting damp dirt on the trail. We passed by the pond where I'd taken Edward skating and I stopped. The ice had begun to melt a little, but I could still make out the thin outline of the hole where I'd nearly fallen in. I remembered dropping, then feeling his arms (surprisingly strong) wrap around my torso, his warm body meeting mine as we tumbled to the snowy bank. I remembered how we'd laughed, how we'd absolutely  _howled_ with laughter. And I remember looking into his glorious irises, one like a tree in winter (dark, curious, but not barren or dead, more like it was waiting for something) and the other like a tree in summer (full, rich, but full of the wisdom and knowledge one can only know after they've died year after year) and how it, how  _he_ was just so damn perfect. Then kissing him in a moment of chaos and wonder (the way he made me feel then). When he kissed me, it was a total opposite feeling, pure clarity and simplicity. His wasn't complicated or reckless like mine had been. His was easy, knowing, and yet the most intense connection I'd ever felt (the way he made me feel now). Our third kiss had been both, like his eyes. Both rough and easy, both chaotic and simple, both deliberate and confused. At that exact moment, I fell for him. 

I hadn't realized Albert had run ahead until he came back. "Al?" He asked softly, his face no longer perturbed or upset, just a peculiar and unfamiliar expression: pure blankness.

"What?" I took a slow step forward, but he didn't back away like I expected. Instead, he rushed forwards, his athletic arms crushing me. The hug said everything both of us couldn't bring ourselves to say. As he released me, he met my eyes for the first time. "So, you're what, gay?"

"No."

"Wait, what? I thought you were dating-"

"I am. But it's not that simple."

He grew quiet again, and I was afraid I had alienated him in some way, but he just looked confused.

"I'm pansexual," I offered

"Explain."

"It means..." I sighed, considering. "It means I don't care about gender. As long as you've got a nice personality and a nice ass, It doesn't matter."

"Huh. Is that a real thing?"

"Yes, Albert."

"Cool." Albert attempted a tentative smile, and as I returned it, his grew more genuine.

"Yeah. Cool."


	18. What is Love?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edward's POV

Edward:

I had never felt more alive than in that moment. Kissing Alfred behind a shelf of books, or in his bedroom, or even curled up in a snowbank never made me feel the way I did as I professed my...love? My like? My  _feelings_ for Alfred. I was worried, though. More about him than me, considering I barely had any friends. Of course, I feared one person the most.

Florence was a pretty girl, I suppose. I wasn't attracted to her, but she was nice enough. She also knew my parents. My not-very-conservative-but-still-religious parents. So of course I was a little afraid. I found her after school in the library, poring over some Stephen King book or another. She liked horror. I did not. "Florence." I approached quietly, and she sent a brief glance my way before turning back to her book, flustered. "Florence, please." She moved her head to look this time, her clear blue eyes studying me. "Hi, Edward." She motioned for me to sit.

"I'd rather stand. Florence, I wasn't trying to lead you on, I was just-"

"Just what, Edward? Lying to some poor girl who just wanted somebody to love, so that you could go on with your secret boyfriend? I don't mind that you're gay, I just wish you would have told me."

"I know. I'm sorry. If there's anything I can do to make it up to you, I-"

"There isn't. Thank you for coming, Edward. Really." She nodded sincerely and went back to her book. I knew when to leave well enough alone, so I did, and went home. When I arrived in my driveway, both of my parents' cars were in the driveway. That made me more anxious, considering that my mother usually worked well into the night, and my father usually went out for a drink with his buddies after work. So at 4:00 in the afternoon, as I took in the sight of my mother's red Volkswagen Beetle and my father's black Subaru, something was absolutely, definitively wrong. Tentatively, I opened the front door. "Mom? Dad? I'm home!" I called out into what would usually be an empty house.

"Okay, darling. We're in the den. Would you please join us?" My mother's voice rang out, but unlike the voice I had come to recognize, this one was empty. Hollow. Bracing myself, I slowly made my way to the den, my fingernails digging into the skin of my palms. "Hello, Edward." My father was leaning back on the leather sofa, my mother perched on the arm, her foot wiggling nervously. Mine did that too. "What's the matter?" I asked, very well knowing just what the matter was.

"Well, darling, we heard some...shocking news today from the school." I froze. 

"Honey, do you have something you...want to tell us?" My mother stared at me pleadingly.

"Um, yeah. I guess. You remember that guy who came to the hospital? Alfred? We, uh..." I trailed off and met my father's eyes. Instead of the cold and steely resolve I usually saw there, there was only confusion. Confusion about how his only son could have lied to him. I took a deep breath and continued. "We're dating. I'm biromantic. And asexual. And I know that's a lot to take in, but-"

"Come on, kiddo." My dad spoke for the first time. "We love you. You know that." I might have been more shell-shocked hearing that than any other time that year. As he stood to grip my shoulder with a broad hand, he offered a wide grin. "And you know I always wanted a second son."

"Oh, Jesus, Dad. I'm 17."

"Yeah, yeah. I know."

 My mom kissed the top of my head and ruffled my hair. "Bring him over for dinner sometime. We'd love to meet him. For real, this time."

"Okay, Ma."

I texted Alfred the good news.

 _Came out to parents. All good. They want you to come over for dinner sometime._  

_nice job_

_Your parents didn't find out?_

_no I made sure the school wouldn't tell. they dont want their star runner out of the meet tmrw._

_Right. I'll see you tomorrow._

_see u tomorrow_

I went to the meet the next day, tentatively. I had my parents' blessing to date Alfred, and I didn't have enough friends that I was worried about losing any, but now everyone knew me as 'the guy who yelled about how gay he was from the top of the school'. I wasn't used to being widely known. And yet, when you... _like_ someone, you do things you wouldn't necessarily do for them. And I liked nobody if not Alfred. 

My hair was smoothed down under a Dodgers cap and I slid black sunglasses over my eyes. I knew the old baseball cap-and-sunglasses trick wouldn't particularly fool anyone, but it would at least make me less conspicuous. "I'm going to the meet, Mom!"

"Oh, are you sure we shouldn't come, Edward?"

"Yeah, Ma. It's fine, I promise I'll bring him over for dinner sometime."

"Okay, fine. Have fun! Love you!"

"I will. Love you too." 

It amazed me how little my life had changed since I told my parents. I still watched baseball with my dad, still cooked with my mom. They rarely mentioned it, although that day I had seen a bi pride bumper sticker in the Amazon cart. 

The afternoon was warm, sunny, and just a little bit breezy. My favorite weather. Alfred was running the mile, which was the last event, so I settled in to watch for a while. I got an iced tea from concessions and I sat on the grass near the finish line. Running never interested me. At least not via participation. But the sun kept me warm and the iced tea kept me caffeinated, so I dealt. And, about three hours later (ugh), the mile was in its third heat. Alfred's heat. I leaned up, trying to get a better look. Alfred stretched on the track, looking _very_ nice in short shorts and a tank top. He caught my eyes and sent a small wave over. I grinned and waved back, but I realized he wasn't waving at me. I turned around to see a tall woman with thick blonde hair and pale blue eyes. Alfred's mom. He balanced himself lightly on the starting breath and took several deep breaths. The starter raised the gun and 3...2...1...fired!

Alfred took off, his strong legs pumping. I whooped loudly as he passed, and I noticed a small smile flash onto his face. However, it disappeared as soon as it came to make room for his heavy breathing and flushed cheeks. He quickly passed all of the other runners, taking the lead with ease and grace. He ran one lap, then two, then three, and began his last lap. I was standing now, and practically screaming. "Go! Go! Go!" Nobody even came close to him. He crossed the finish line seconds ahead of the competition, which might not seem like much, but I'm told in the running world is quite a big deal.

As he crossed the line and the clock stopped, I cheered wildly, but then became confused. He wasn't there anymore! I finally spotted him, still running, coming up the grass towards me.

"Hey! Nice job!" I reached up to high five him, but he cupped my face with one hand, sliding the other around my waist, and kissed me with such vigor I was sure I was dreaming.

"What was that for?" I asked breathlessly as he pulled back.

"I love you." He stated simply, ignoring my question and answering it all at the same time.

"You...what?"

"I. Love. You."

"Oh!"

"Oh?"

"Sorry, I just meant..." I bent down to kiss him once more. "I love you too."

He let out a low whistle. "Damn, Drummond. You never cease to take my breath away."

"And you mine."

I linked my arms around his neck and he wrapped his broad arms around my torso. "Oh, Alfred. I'm so damn..." I trailed off as his arms loosened and he stiffened. "...happy. Al, what's-" His eyes were trained on a spot behind he so I turned to see what he was staring at. His mother was staring, shell-shocked, at the two of us, her hand closed around the cross that hung around her neck.

"Oh, Mom." Alfred stepped around me to reach towards his mother. "Alfred." She said tersely. "Mom, please, just-"

"We'll talk when you get home, darling. Hm?" She stalked off, her shoulders slumped.

Alfred bit his lip, his brow furrowed. "I gotta go. This...oh god. It's going to be a mess." He brushed his lips to my cheek. "I'll call you when this blows over. I love you."


	19. The Father and The Son

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred's POV

Alfred:

My mother was going to be livid, that I was sure of. What I wasn't sure of was why. I knew well enough that she was deeply religious, but I wasn't sure just how much. And I wasn't sure if her love for me outweighed her love for God. That might sound odd, coming from someone who never left the house without being told by his mother that she loves him. But on the other hand, it wasn't, because every night I could hear her praying, and every Sunday we went to church.

A chill seemed to settle over the small brick house, the same one I had grown up in, I'd brought home report cards, and my first girlfriend. Then, I'd brought home sports equipment, textbooks, and my second girlfriend. Now, in this new era of my life, I'd brought home science projects, doodled cartoons, and Edward. My first boyfriend. Edward, with his chocolate-colored curls and sparkling eyes, one amber and one emerald, with his sarcastic wit and his golden heart. Edward, who loved me. Edward, who I loved. But the thrill of first love had faded too soon, leaving me feeling nothing but anxiety. "Mom?" I asked tentatively, the front door gliding open on newly-oiled hinges. 

"Alfred." My mother descended the steps to the front hall, her eyes a pale red and her face contorted into an expression I was not familiar with. Not anger, not disappointment. Just...pure ice. 

"Mom, I'm so sorry. I should have told you, I just-"

"Darling, that's not what I'm mad about." I stopped in my tracks. 

"Then what are you mad about?"

"I'm mad because you kissed that-that  _boy!_ In front of everybody! I have friends, you know, and they talk, and now all they'll be talking about is how my son but on such a disgracious act of teenage rebellion,  _in front of the whole school._ "

"Well, Mother, I'm sorry my sexuality is such an inconvenience to you."

"Don't be sarcastic with me, Alfred. It is an inconvenience. I don't have the time for this little 'mini revolution' of yours. Please, let's just move on."

"Move on? Mother, there's nothing to move on from. I love him.  _We_ are in love."

"Please, Darling. You only think you love him because, well...well I don't really know why! But you certainly aren't actually in love with him. You can't be."

"What do you mean,  _'you can't be'_? Mother, don't I have the right to love?"

"Of course you do, but you don't have to resort to these little rebellions. You could find a perfectly nice girl, and-"

"I don't want a perfectly nice girl! I want Edward!"

"That's too bad. Alfred, you know I love you."

"I do."

"And that's why I can't let this happen. This isn't real, Alfred. This is just a phase, the same one every teenager goes through. The one where they do the exact opposite of what their parents want, not because they want it, but because they want to upset their parents."

"You think that's what this is?" I took a tentative step forward. "Mom, I've never wanted to do anything but make you happy. You know that."

"Really? Because if you did, you wouldn't have done this. You know how I feel about this."

"Mom, people change. The church has changed."

"Perhaps those in power have convinced everyone of that. But the Bible says no. So I say no."

"Mom." I reached out, as if to brush her shoulder, but she shied away, and I saw an emotion I'd never seen before in her eyes. No longer was her face a placid lake of calm. Now, it had become a raging ocean, seething with hatred. I backed away, horrified. 

"Now look, Alfred," she said, composing herself. "I don't like ultimatums, but I think that's the only way to bring this ridiculousness to an end. So either break up with Edward and we can forget this ever happened, or...or you can leave."

"What?" I wasn't sure I'd heard her right.

"You heard me. If you're so insistent on this, I can't deal with it. So if you refuse to let go of this silly little game of yours, you're going to have to find somewhere else to stay, until you realize I'm right. If you do, you can come back, but until then..." She wouldn't meet my eyes.

"Fine, Ma." She perked up a little. "I'll go." The words caught in my throat and I could barely see past the tears welling in my eyes.

"Okay. I see you've made your decision." Her voice wavered, but she cleared her throat and replaced the disappointment on her face with a cruel sneer. "You have an hour to get your stuff and get out."

"Fine, but I'm taking my car."

"Do whatever you need to do. I'll be back in one hour, and you need to be gone." Wordlessly, I nodded, and she slammed the front door behind her. I grabbed my suitcase from my closet, and started stuffing clothes into it. I didn't own too much, so it all fit with room to spare. I grabbed all of the trinkets off my desk and nightstand and dropped them in too. Forty-five minutes later, I surveyed my room. It looked mostly the same, considering I wasn't taking any furniture or bedding with me, but without the character it once had. I carefully loaded the stuffed suitcase into the trunk of my car. I was pretty sure Edward would help me out, so I drove the winding roads to his house and rang the doorbell. Nobody answered. I rang it several more times. Nothing. I slumped down on his front stoop and tried to calm my shaking hands. Bringing them to my face, I felt a wetness on my cheeks and realized I'd been crying. 

When Edward and his parents finally came home, they found me on their porch, completely broken down. Silently, Edward helped me stand and gathered me into his arms, my chest tight and my shoulders wracked with sobs. "What happened?" He asked finally. 

"My-my mom..." And so I explained to the Drummonds, about my mom, and her ultimatum. "And I just didn't know what to do, so I cam here, and..." I broke down once again, slightly embarrassed to be crying in front of my boyfriend's parents.

"It's okay, Alfred," said his mother. 

"You made the right decision, coming here." His father gripped my shoulder firmly. "You can stay with us, for the time being. We'll go make up the couch, and Edward can help you get the stuff from your car." I nodded, choking back another stream of sobs. Edward and I worked quietly for a time, pulling my suitcase out of the trunk and getting it into the house. As we paused in the mudroom, Edward stopped. "About the ultimatum..."

"Yeah?"

"You should have broken up with me. Your family is more important."

I let out a melancholy chuckle. "Come on, Ed. Be serious."

"I am. I love you, but nobody is more important to me than my mom. I assume you felt the same way."

"I did. Once. But," I took his hand gently, "leaving you was never even a consideration. I have no regrets. Except maybe not kissing you the first time I ever saw you."

"That would have been very strange."

"Probably." I smiled sadly at him for a moment, then we both burst out laughing, and it reminded me of skating at the pond. Feeling his weight on top of me, watching his grin grow and explode into laughter. And after I kissed him, seeing his face, totally shocked, the feeling of dread sinking in my stomach. And then as he kissed me, the pain alleviating to make room for happiness. That was how I felt now, so warm and loved and happy and...lost. My mom was my only family. And she was gone. And then looking into his beautiful gold-flecked eyes, I realized:

He was my family now.


	20. The Prince Bride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred's POV, Edward's POV

Alfred:

I awoke on the Drummond's sofa to the smell of pancakes and eggs. Usually I woke up before my mom, and had some variety of sugary cereal that was decidedly not part of a balanced breakfast. This was...quite a change.

"Good morning, Alfred!" Exclaimed Mrs. Drummond with a smile as I stumbled into the kitchen, blinking and yawning. "Would you like some breakfast?" She set down a stack of pancakes, scrambled eggs, fruit, and buttered toast. "Wow. I...wow."

"Alfred!" Edward rushed into the kitchen, kissing me on the cheek before doing the same to his mother. "I'm glad to see you two are getting along." He stretched his arms above his head and winced suddenly, clutching his chest. 

"Edward!" Mrs. Drummond and I cried in unison. "Edward, are you okay?" I rushed to his side. "Has it been like this?"

"No." He grimaced, breathing heavily for a minute, before finally relaxing. "I'm fine. The doctor said there might be some residual pain. I promise, I'm okay."

"If you say so."

"Mom, we should get going. We'll see you after school."

"Alright, honey, just...be careful. Please."

"Of course, Mama." He groaned once more as he sat beside me at the counter, his mother placing a similar plate in front of him before shooting me a concerned glance.

"So, what are your plans for tonight, boys?" I shrugged and looked to Edward for guidance.

"Well, Mom, your tone of voice makes me think you have some ideas."

"I don't know about that, but your father and I would certainly enjoy it if you would join us for dinner tonight. You as well, Alfred."

"Sure, Ma, I think we can spare an hour. But right now, we have to get to school." I glanced down at my pajamas uncertainly. "It's okay, Alfred. You can use my room to change." I grabbed a spare set of clothes from my bag in the living room and followed him up the stairs to a tiny corner room, with such a low sloping ceiling Edward had to duck to get in. The walls were painted a deep indigo, and plastic glow-in-the-dark stars were glued to the walls and ceiling.

"I've always liked space." He said with a shrug, catching my surprised eyes. "I built that mobile with my dad in first grade." He pointed up to a hand-painted solar system mobile. "It's great. Very you." I said with a smile and a kiss.

"Um, so, should I just turn around, or-"

"Yes, please." I shrunk away, suddenly shy. I had always been confident in my body, but now, with Edward here, I couldn't stop thinking about the little rolls that my stomach formed as I curled over at the starting line, or the way I jiggled slightly when I ran. He slowly swiveled away from me, and I peeled off my old hockey T-shirt, rollingmy shoulders to get rid of the aches from the pull-out sofa. My shoulders cracked, and I jumped as I heard Edward gasp sharply. "Oh my God, Edward! Are you okay?!" He was bent over, breathing heavily. His hand crossed over to his side to grip the dark pink scar on his side, and he flinched slightly as I reached out for him. After a moment, he straightened up slowly, his shoulders so tense I could see the muscles through his shirt. He turned back around to face me, and I saw the pain leach out of his face as his eyes traveled from my chest up to my face. "Jesus, Alfred, did you not want me to see you like this? Because," he wolf-whistled loudly, "you are  _hot_. Truly, so hot. 10/10, would smash."

I loosened the grip around my torso. "Seriously?"

"Of course." His voice softened, getting huskier as it got quieter. "I love you." I stepped back quickly, forgetting already that we had said the L-word. But as I looked into his gorgeous multicolored spectral irises, it became clearer to me why I had said it. Acting quickly, I stood up on my tiptoes, throwing my arms around his neck and kissing him more passionately than I think I had since winter break. He leaned down into me, his hands sliding up and over my shoulders. Suddenly, I had a realization. "Wait!" I said, breathing hard, my cheeks red. "Aren't you...y'know...asexual?"

"Eh. Let's call it grey-sexual." He reached down, taking the edges of his shirt and tossing it off, before gripping my shoulders, the two of us stumbling backwards and slamming into the wall. The kissing became more frantic now, like we were both trying to breath in as much of each other as possible. I reached down to undo the bow on my pajama pants, and he did the same. I broke away for just a minute to take it all in, and  _damn_. Edward was built like a fucking Greek god, if Greek gods were not  _quite_ as buff as mythology led us to believe. Nevertheless, he was strong enough, reaching down to grip the undersides of my legs, hoisting me against the wall, his kisses trailing down my neck and chest. "Edward...oh my God...Edward, are you sure? Are you one hundred percent sure?" He detached his lips from me just long enough to get six little words out. "Hundred percent. I'm all in. You?"

Now it was my turn. I decided on a few more words. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life."

"Great." He said smiling wickedly. "Let's do this."

Some time later, tangled up in his bedsheets, I traced hearts and stars on his bare chest, my fingers dancing over him with practiced elegance. "Alfred?" He asked suddenly, and I could feel the vibrations in his chest.

"Yeah?" I replied.

"How long do you think we'll last?"

I was taken aback. Not by the question, but just that he had to ask it. "It's like you said earlier, Ed. I'm all in."

"I know that, but that's not an answer. Plenty of people are all in at the beginning, but break up even so."

"Yeah, I know." I turned my head to place a soft kiss on his stomach. "But it doesn't matter. I love you, you love me. We'll last as long as we'll last. But right now, isn't this enough? To just be here, with each other?"

"Yeah. It is." He leaned over to check his phone clock. "Shit! We have to go!" I laughed quietly and untangled myself from his limbs. "I should probably actually get dressed, right?"

"Yeah, I don't really want to tell my parents we just did, y'know,  _that,_ instead of getting ready for school."

"Oh, God. Yeah. Let's go."

We arrived at school in the nick of time. And, by the nick of time, I mean about ten minutes after class had started. 

"Oh, well." We stopped at our usual spot, halfway between both of our classes. "We tried." He sent me a not-so-subtle wink and we both laughed again. 

"'My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep; the more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite.' Romeo and Juliet. See, I'm cultured! I can quote the greatest love story of all time. Besides ours, of course." He laughed again as I squeezed his hand.

"Romeo and Juliet is a cautionary tale about lust between a thirteen year old and a seventeen year old, in which they both make poor decisions and six people end up dead. If you're going to quote the greatest love story of all time, quote what may truly be the greatest love story of all time: The Princess Bride. 'I have stayed these years in my hovel because of you. I have taught myself languages because of you. I have made my body strong because I thought you might be pleased by a strong body. I have lived my life with only the prayer that some sudden dawn you might glance in my direction. I have not known a moment in years when the sight of you did not send my heart careening against my rib cage. I have not known a night when your visage did not accompany me to sleep. There has not been a morning when you did not flutter behind my waking eyelids.'"

"How in the hell do you know that whole thing."

"Practice." He replied with a proud grin, like a kindergartner having just been the first in their class to count to 100. 

"Whatever. Have a nice day, 'Westley'."

"As you wish!" He called after me, a slow grin spreading across my face. Loving him might have cost me my mother, but I couldn't imagine loving anyone else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Side note, I know my smut-writing skills are terrible, and that's why there is little to no detail.
> 
> Also I'm going to take a short break from writing on this for a little while

**Author's Note:**

> Shoutout to my beta reader, my bae Rosy.


End file.
